How I Learned to Stop Worryinghttps://howilearnedtostopworrying.com
Musings on bicycling, travel and life.Sat, 28 Jul 2018 12:11:05 +0000enhourly1http://wordpress.com/https://secure.gravatar.com/blavatar/9a6640c7f958f8981fa2af901c516e6a?s=96&d=https%3A%2F%2Fs0.wp.com%2Fi%2Fbuttonw-com.pngHow I Learned to Stop Worryinghttps://howilearnedtostopworrying.com
Shower Chairshttps://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2016/07/19/shower-chairs/
https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2016/07/19/shower-chairs/#respondTue, 19 Jul 2016 09:33:27 +0000http://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/?p=875You know those air vents that are typically found in every bathroom in the US? I’ve grown to be distrustful of them. Not only are fucked up perverts putting cameras in them to record us shitting and showering but they also never do their job. Since the date I signed the lease for my most recent apartment, rented out by some insane Scientologist (trust me I did not know this until afterwards), that vent has never worked or I’ll give it some credit, it has never worked properly. So while I know it does not actually vent or even circulate air it sure does make one heck of a noise when I flip that switch. As I said just a sentence or so earlier, I don’t believe vents vent. But somehow I still turn that noise maker on in a failed attempt at having a mist free mirror and it not to look like a Russian Bath House when I step out of the shower. I know it sounds strange but it’s sort of a fear of mine. All that steam and oligarchs. Yuck!

A little background and update as of late. I’ve been going under the knife a lot lately and I wish it was for plastic surgery, I’m starting to actually see the ravages of time and it’s not pretty! Recently I decided it was a fantastic idea to go ahead and break a few ribs and my pelvis, after not to recently but within 3 months of having knee surgery, 7 months after my second shoulder surgery, 10 months after a neck surgery, and 19 months since the original and first shoulder surgery. I feel kinda like an ex con who just wants to “Go straight” but keeps falling in with those same people that encourage me to offend in the first place. And yes these people should know who they are!

Needless to say after the pelvis thing I’m having a bit of a problem with mobility. With the full support of my husband and the rest of my family and NO I don’t have children, I mean my real family, my cats. I caved in and bought a Shower Chair from Amazon. They sell everything! While this chair is a necessary tool for my personal health it also is a topic and punchline of my many bad jokes around the house. Can you guess? Mostly old people jokes.

Another BTW is I just turned 35 about a week before all this happened. So much for starting the year off right? And while making geriatric jokes is about as fun as it gets and super easy too, it also is kind of hitting alarmingly close to home after recent life events. Although I’m still getting acne at this age so WTF?

As much as I try and avoid that shower chair I still need it for those finer touches that some of us women do. In order to do these cleansing rituals we sometimes need to contort ourselves in strange ways while in the shower. It’s a beautifully strange balancing act, that I never want any human to ever see me doing! The shower chair helps me perform these acts fairly well while slightly less dignified but also seated.

As a non permanently disabled person I chose to take a shower while my Father In-law and current caregiver had decided he wanted to go out for a walk, I guess I just wanted some privacy. In retrospect this was a terrible idea. Why did I choose to do that most dangerous activity of my day, when the only other person in my home at that moment would not be around to help me in the event that I fell or something worse?

Very poor judgment on my end.

Sitting there on that off white plastic seat thinking to myself I always thought it was that color because well… Grandma was gross in her old age. I only ever really knew her when she was old and I just assumed that the reason for the color of her shower chair was because she doubled down on her tub and use it as a toilet. No unitaskers right? Maybe she just enjoyed peeing in the shower, as do I. My thought process is that I’m keeping athlete’s foot away or keeping Jellyfish at bay. So there I am sitting there trying to adjust my ass because while not only being that attractive hue of off white it also has another ability, super grippy on the butt. A little extra soap seems to do the trick, Thank you Heloise. All lubed up, bar of soap in one hand and a disposable razor in the other, I think to myself “I’m married, husband is out of town. Let’s get down to business!”

Being a white woman in her 30’s I’ve done my fair share of yoga classes over the years, some good, some ridiculous, some bad. Yet almost all of them end with a lengthy talk / discussion about what I’m sure I’m describing quite simplistic and crudely as “Living in the Now.” I do understand this philosophy wholly and completely. My feelings are that if you are not living in the “Now” then you are batshit crazy, how can you not live in actual reality? There are some definite greys in my perception of reality but living is pretty well black and white. You are either “here” or you are not.

Okay so there I am in the shower alone in my house shaving my legs and being very aware. When all of a sudden I notice crickets. I don’t see crickets, I hear them. You know like those ones in old cartoons when a character makes a terribly bad joke in front of a large audience and the only sound you hear is the soft chirping of crickets. The sound of disapproval. Now in this moment I am not alone but put on a display. This horrid feeling is as if I was pulled up on a stage without realizing what was happening and then expected to perform something which I don’t understand yet everyone is waiting for me to do something. Now, I can hardly believe what my subconscious is doing to me or even if this is my brain creating this strange reality. Was this voyeurism, if there is only one? Oh crap! Am I “In the Now?” Can this be what people experience when they say they feel “uncentered?”

I’m aware that I’m home alone, injured badly, on a huge amount of painkillers, and probably had a glass of wine or two?

“Are those really Crickets?”

“Are you sure?”

“Something isn’t right!”

“Feels pretty out of it to me.”

Knowingly having these thoughts and experiencing these emotions, this moment didn’t feel like what my eyes were seeing. A small bathroom, dim lighting (should be brighter, it’s a bathroom for F’s sake!), shoddy wooden toilet seat, me sitting naked behind the shower curtain, that one hand still holding a bar of soap and the other still a razor.

“Wait a minute Crickets?”

There is no window in this bathroom but somehow I now have Crickets?”

A wave of rationalisim washes over me.

I’m beginning to wonder if that severity of sobriety should be celebrated at this point?

I remember a saying my Grandma always used to spout out. “Idiots are always Happier.” Who was she talking to and who was it directed at? There was never any clear indication that she directed these words at a particular person or if these were some sort of sage words she tried to impart with me. My Grandma was one of the smartest people I ever had the chance to meet. Or maybe she was just venting on society as a whole? She never did seem truly happy during the short time that I knew her. But grandma had lots of sayings and none of them all that great.

Grandma Isms

“You’ll eat a peck of dirt before you die.”

Some sort of folksy, farmer, germ, thing I actually believe and one of her better sayings.

“It’s a STOP! Not a give up!”

Referring to driving and 4 way stops, I normally credit this to my mother but I’m pretty

sure it was passed down. Also my husband’s favorite.

And the most emotionally damaging.

“You’ll never get a man by doing that!”

A sentence said to me at practically everything I did as a kid, I must not have been boy

Crazy at this time because I don’t remember caring all that much when she said it.

Okay so now I’m beginning to realize I’m pretty used to reality by this point, I’m starting to think I was raised that way. What a bummer really.

That’s when it hit’s me ‘It’s Not Crickets!”

It’s that goddamn half fucked air vent, sitting superiorly in the space above my head, watching me, judging me, driving me batshit crazy! Really air vents can do this, cause this much damage to my already weakened psyche. Alone, naked, and scared this is all I need!

To my landlord who is out there I know this is very “passive aggressive” but “Fix the Fucking vent!”

*loosely based on reality and exaggerated for effect

]]>https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2016/07/19/shower-chairs/feed/0thegargleblasterA Not So Fitting Endhttps://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2015/02/28/a-not-so-fitting-end/
https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2015/02/28/a-not-so-fitting-end/#respondSat, 28 Feb 2015 01:19:10 +0000http://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/?p=865It’s been awhile since the last ride of our Southwest American Mountain Bike trip and the present. If you know us personally there has been big big changes happening back in Minneapolis and a lot of that upheaval has factored into this prolonged time lapse. Currently we are transitioning our housing from the frigid North to the temperate Pacific Northwest region of the US and that leaves little time for more then the occasional Redditing. Thought the bigger reason for my lack of enthusiasm towards blog updates is because of how our winter MTB get-a-way ended in such an abrupt and painful fashion.

There are only so many times you can ride your bike without falling down. In my case Boulder City Nevada was the last time I would be able to mount a bicycle for quite a long while.

A unusually rainy day in the desert started at the bike shop in Boulder City where it was rumored that they run a shuttle up to the top of the Bootleg Canyon Trail System for a whopping $5USD a ride. After some normal bike shop talk and a few modifications to Brian’s Bronson we were convinced to go riding in the rain. The guys at the shop swore that when it was wet outside the trails were perfect. Whatever, we were there to ride and once the desert deluge had lightened up to more of a scattered shower I agreed to take the commute up the mountain. The shuttle was more like an old U-haul truck decked out with sweaty smelly sofas, soon to be splintered lawn furniture, and with a homemade bicycle trailer in tow. Perfect for dragging our lazy downhill dirty mountain biker butts around! Once at the top everyone unloads, grabs their bikes, suits up, helmet on, and picks a line. Being our first time out we picked the easiest line with a fair amount of intermediate riding. The added difficulty of the low hanging clouds and the slick wet rocks had me riding very cautiously most of the way down. Taking the time to jump off the bike, looking ahead at the up coming rocky obstacles, finding the go arounds, and even many times walking through the more slippery sections. Only after about 3/4 of the ride is above and behind my tires was when I actually started to enjoy the experience. The soaking downhill wasn’t exactly thrilling but I was finally starting to contemplate another trip up in the moving van for another go around. I’ll remind you and myself that this wasn’t a hugely complicated trail but riding on a surface that I wasn’t quite used to and doing it while it rained on me, it wasn’t exactly a pleasant stretch of path . So I find it ever more disheartening when finally I decide to let go of my inhibitions and just ride. That was the time when the world wants to smack me around for forgetting one thing. It really hurts when you fall down!

Towards the end of the ride not far from the Trail Head Parking is where I biffed it pretty good. A combination of going to fast, not reading the trail properly, and fighting off my scardy cat tendencies, somehow I managed to fall off a drop several feet deep. Upend over my handlebars and land shoulder first into a giant boulder on the side of the path kissing it as I fell. Thank goodness for my helmet or I might be missing some teeth along with my severely fractured shoulder. Saving you the gory details which sent shivers up the spines of many of the people who I recount this story for, I’ll just say I spent 4 days and 3 nights in the hospital, had emergency surgery, a wicked scar, and even now I’ve got months of Orthopedic and Physical Therapy appointments ahead of me. All of the doctors are pretty convinced that I’ll never really be back to normal after an accident of this magnitude.

What I tend to tell people now who ask me why I have my arm in a medical sling is that “I found a boulder in Boulder city.” Not that creative I know but it is simple to understand.

That accident kind put an end to my MTB for the near term future, unfortunately for Brian who got out unscathed and still itching for some riding. Even though I was pretty beat up after that ordeal it was decided that I could still do some geriatric vacationing with the help of Doctor prescribed medication and lot of pillows. Making it easier to continue on visiting Zion, Moab, and Arches National Parks. All very limiting to my new condition but at least Brian go to ride for a day in Moab before eventually making our way back home to Minneapolis.

So that is my excuse on taking so long write up a blog post and that typing is super hard one handed.

]]>https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2015/02/28/a-not-so-fitting-end/feed/047.570655 -122.22206747.570655-122.222067arches 2thegargleblastertop of bootlegDrill armamy in the hospitalzionarchesScarLearn To Go With The Flowhttps://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2015/01/09/learn-to-go-with-the-flow/
https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2015/01/09/learn-to-go-with-the-flow/#commentsFri, 09 Jan 2015 03:57:20 +0000http://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/?p=853It is amazing how quickly things can change in side a short span of time. Not to terribly long ago Brain and I were planing a long bicycle touring trip to Chile with a friend of ours, Katherine Glover. You can find her blog here http://www.katherineglover.net/chile/day-4-starting-the-carretera-austral/ She is currently in Chile doing the trip we sort of convinced her to do. Fortunately or maybe unfortunately for us life had a different plan for our future, like it so often does. So in order to keep things heading in the right direction we had to bail on Kathrine and change our direction. The trip to South America has been postponed until further notice, while we focus on other more immediate adventures in the spring of 2015. Those major changes are but not limited to, a big move West 900+ miles away from the place we have called home since 2006, making our way through the path of higher education, and a massive career change for not just one but hopefully the both of us. With so much ahead of us in the near term future it became increasingly difficult to justify a several month trip out of the US.

The problem with planning for many months an extended vacation is that suddenly when you decided that you are no longer leaving, it is so very hard to get that “going away” mindset out of your brain. The solution to that is… still going on vacation! But being that we couldn’t really afford the trip to Chile anymore, it wasn’t just the monetary issues but also affording such an extended time for a sabbatical seemed a little to extreme at this juncture in time. There needed to be a change in time frame and venue. Our solution ended up being a road trip to the American South West and instead of touring bicycles we traded up to Mountain Bikes. This change made it so we could still have a holiday away from the frigid North Coast and continue to travel with our bicycles in tow. Which for us is the only way to travel, bicycle touring long term has turned the two of us into horseshit sightseers/tourists.

This new journey began with a 12 hour drive south to Brian’s father’s home located in a suburb of Tulsa Oklahoma. No actual mountain biking was done inside of Oklahoma because they had been suffering from a winter rain storm which makes it just about impossible to hike the local Turkey Mountain let alone bike in that slippery clay. Instead we visited the Woody Guthrie Center and Prairie Home Artisan Ales trying to make the few days of visiting Oklahoma a little more bearable. This time we were pleasantly surprised with all the interesting things to do that have popped up in the last few years.

Hummingbird at the Sonora Desert Museum in Tucson

A friendly roadrunner

Since leaving Tulsa we made a short stop in Carlsbad Texas to see the Caverns and then made it straight towards Tucson for the first part of our actual Mountain biking. So far the two of us have managed to get in the better part of four different local Tucson trails in the three days we have been out riding here.

Brian pretending to be a cactus

On day one we started slow on the beginner to intermediate sections of the Sweet Water Trail System, it was about 7.5 miles long. Being a bit out of shape for this sort of riding, it took us a lot longer then we expected to complete this section. Even so we had a blast, it was nothing like the trails we experience back home in Minnesota. Here things are less flowy, extremely rocky, sandy, more technical, and full of spiky hazards. So I personally pedal quite a bit slower and try to maintain a bit more control, hopefully that keeps me from falling into to many cacti and sharp rocks that littler the path. Later on that same day it was decided that we would keep on going and try out Pistol Hill on the Arizona Trail System, although after being on the bike for the first time in two months I was pretty beat and only made it up the first climb before I felt the need to turn back.

My run in with the local wildlife

Day two had us heading west to the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum in the morning for some cultural sights and then to the Tuscon Mountain Park Loop for the rest of the afternoon. Where we managed to get lost riding around and watch the sunset over the Mountains on the trail, it was hard but amazing. Plus Brian met a friend on his solo ride mostly up Brown Mountain.

Brian and a little trail snack

Our last full day started out with a little rain and ended the same way. As early in the morning as we could muster Brian and I drove North of Tucson to the Golder Ranch trails and instead of following the easier route (The Chutes) we opted for the mostly hike-a-bike option of the Upper-50 Trail. Although we didn’t know it at the time but I ended hiking with my bike rather then riding it like we intended. As much as I like hiking and love biking much more, what I really don’t care for hiking with my bike. So this time it was a bit more demoralizing then fun, that was until we finally got down from the Upper-50 and followed the 50 Year Trail back to the car. Fast and fun, the hard hike-a-bike made me appreciate the rest of the trail so much more.

Saguaro cactus

My run in with the local wildlife

]]>https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2015/01/09/learn-to-go-with-the-flow/feed/632.221743 -110.92647932.221743-110.926479IMG_4537thegargleblasterIMG_4527IMG_4564IMG_4558IMG_20150106_134418IMG_20150107_133818IMG_20150107_162809892IMG_20150106_122748-EFFECTSUnderstanding a New Discipline (Early Training)https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2014/06/09/understanding-a-new-discipline-early-training/
https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2014/06/09/understanding-a-new-discipline-early-training/#commentsMon, 09 Jun 2014 01:54:58 +0000http://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/?p=836Last fall shortly after Brian and I arrived home from our 7 month long Eurasian bicycle tour we promptly decided to purchase new front suspension mountain bikes. As of today I’m not exactly sure how we came to this conclusion? We don’t exactly live in a mountainous area. The truth of the matter is that the space in which we currently reside is known as one of the “Great Plains States.” Not exactly known for it’s mountain biking culture, although there is quite the following here and a surprising amount of active trails.

Even though we’ve owned these bicycles for approximately 8 months, it’s only been the last eight weeks or so that we have been able to witness the sort of riding that these bike can accomplish.

Starting much closer to home we explored places such as Battle Creek Park in near by St Paul and Carver Lake Park around one hours drive from the house. It’s been a tough learning curve but a lot of fun to ride your bicycle in a virtual wilderness. Learning to enjoy the suffering climbs and the twisty turning descents. There isn’t much for mountains here but there are some hills and densely forested reserves that make for a beautiful and extremely enjoyable ride.

So when our 7th wedding anniversary came upon us in May it only seemed natural to take that long holiday weekend and our new found passion on the road. Rumor had it that a good place to go riding was Chequamegon National Forest located nearby to Hayward Wisconsin. There is supposedly something in the way of 300 miles of mountain bike trails. Everything ranging from single track, fire roads, gravel, and even a little tarmac. I say supposedly because there is no way I could actually prove there are that many miles of pathway in one long weekend. In reality we rode only a small percentage of the available trails, though we made sure to ride as many of the intermediate skilled single track sections as possible.

Starting out Saturday morning we arrived in Hayward, but being unable to check in to the cabin Brian had rented for the duration, we promptly headed out to our first ride of the weekend. The Namakagon Cluster at the Namakagon City Hall Trailhead and Patsy Lake trail it was approximately 15 miles long. A long way to go for newbies and not a well ridden trail at this stage of the season. Cluttered with leaf litter for this last Fall it was a bit hard to follow at times but strangely beautiful as well. By the time we finished both of us were beat and ready for dinner and a soft bed.

Our German Cabin for the weekend

Sunday turned into a two trail day. Starting in the morning around 8 am Brian and I drove out to the Hayward Cluster and rode the Hatchery Creek trail, 8.9 miles long. It took us a little under 2 hours and we were able to get back to the cabin for some lunch and a power nap before we were joined by some of our friends for even more mountain bike fun.

Anniversary Dinner

Now we were six tackling the Mosquito Brook Trailhead/ Makwa Trail the total distance was 12.5 miles, I was total wasted by the end of this ride! Then came Monday morning and again we tried the Hatchery Creek Trail this time we only made it 4 miles before packing up and heading home.

The Angry Minnow, the perfect recovery drink!

Mountain biking has become a way for me to become a stronger more adept rider. It’s fun and scary all at the same time. I’m learning more and more skills for my bicycling portfolio. Brian’s motivation is that this is going to make him a stronger Cyclocross racer. Plus it is a great way to be out and active, there are nice trails within 10 minutes from my home. Making it almost impossible not to want to go riding.

Mountain biking is also a great way to mentally and physically prepare for our up coming Patagonia trip, which has starting to gain even more interest among some of our friends. I think so far there is a total of six of of us that are seriously ready and willing for this new adventure.

I’m excited and happy to find a whole new way for Brain and I to enjoy cycling even more. Although it does make me wish for mountains!

]]>https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2014/06/09/understanding-a-new-discipline-early-training/feed/3thegargleblasterIMG_4442IMG_4472.jpgOur German Cabin for the weekendAnniversary DinnerThe Angry Minnow, the perfect recovery drink!IMG_4437Gearing up Againhttps://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2014/04/26/gearing-up-again/
https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2014/04/26/gearing-up-again/#commentsSat, 26 Apr 2014 14:28:22 +0000http://howilearnedtostopworrying.wordpress.com/?p=819We it seems that we haven’t quite learned our lesson from the last time…

Only seven months since our toes finally touched home soil and now there are plans in the making for another adventure. This time with friends! Maybe it takes time equal to the duration spent abroad before the mind seriously is ready to move forward again?

Normalcy is only temporary, and not a place I want to be grounded in.

Plans are in the staging process for another bike tour. This time our limitations have been realized, expatiations dumbed down, and the time frame shortened.

The two of us have started the recruitment process, as of right now it is rather small in scale. Some of the best memories on our last tour were spent traveling in a large pack with fellow cyclists. It allowed us to move in a more safe manner on the tarmac and kept us more secure while camping. Few of the people we know would be up for such a challenge and even fewer have taken an active interest. This tour wouldn’t be nearly as long as our last. Shortening up the time frame for cycling allows others to organize their lives accordingly so that they might be able to join us with out uprooting their entire lives. As of now the guess is 2 1/2 months with a total of 8 weeks cycling through 3000 kilometers of various terrain. Not everyone is prepared or even able to adhere to such a schedule but we are trying to encourage all who can, to come along.

Patagonia

Starting in Porto Monte Chile where we will start cycling through to the last city at the tip of Argentina, Ushuaia. There will be some sightseeing, a little hiking, loads camping, and even more cycling.

Another once in a lifetime chance to observe the world outside your own.

]]>https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2014/04/26/gearing-up-again/feed/4thegargleblasterPatagoniaSkis, and Mountain Bikes, and Bourbon, oh my!https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/12/17/skis-and-mountain-bikes-and-bourbon-oh-my/
https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/12/17/skis-and-mountain-bikes-and-bourbon-oh-my/#commentsTue, 17 Dec 2013 19:00:44 +0000http://howilearnedtostopworrying.wordpress.com/?p=812So far this fall for the first time in a very long time things have not been dominated with the talk and acts of bicycles. This strange circumstance was mostly brought on by Brian, who has decided to sideline his focus on racing this year in pursuit of other hobbies most but not all have nothing to do with actually riding.That’s not to say that he and I aren’t preparing for the future racing/touring season. Just that with over 6000 base miles for this year, it’s time for a short break from the saddle.

Time these days is now divided between work, working out, and social obligations. The later of which really starts to pile up after 6 1/2 months on the road. After being back for four months has our world has begun to stabilize, for better or for worse. Going back to work has been a struggle for me, finding a job was the toughest part but now I’m back into the daily grind. It’s a love hate sort of thing. For the first time in our careers Brian and I are working on the same project. Although we never physically see each other, this project massive and that we work in the opposite spectrums of the construction industry. So although we are at the same place at the same time there is virtually no contact between us besides the occasional text messages at break time. After the workday is through, we both have come into the routine of going to the gym several times a week. He focuses on weights and squats, readying himself for the Track and I do a little bit of cardio and weights as well. I’m just hoping to keep my legs strong for future touring, but with out riding all the time with a loaded bicycle, it’s hard to keep up that sort of fitness. The weather has turned here in Minnesota, snow covers everything and lately the temperature has turned into the sub zero’s wind chill. Not exactly conducive for cycling, although I see people doing just that all the time in Minneapolis. I just figure they are either braver or not a susceptible to cold temperatures as I am. Either way, I’m sticking to mostly indoor work outs for the time being. With one or two exclusions, Mountain Biking or Cross County Skiing.

Living in a winter wonderland such as this, we had decided a few years ago the we were going to have to learn and like the snow and to a lesser extent the cold if we wanted to continue to happily live here. Everything else in the upper Midwest is so perfect for us, (I do miss the mountains) except for the winters which can last a normal several months or get into the dismal and upwards of six. Finally this year we were able to purchase for the first time ever for either of us, Cross County Skis. Neither of us know what we are doing on the skis but lack of education on such matters has never hindered us before. As of right now we have been out only twice with both disastrous results. No one has been seriously hurt, unless you include pride being on the list of bones that one might break? Lessons are definitely in order and we start a group session on Sunday.

Something that needs less formal instruction but more practice is Mountain Biking. It’s something the two of us have been talking about picking up for awhile now. And since we had the funds in the budget because of our early homecoming, it was an easy decision. Again with this practice we have only been able to get out twice before conditions became to severe for bikes on the single track that is close to our house. Some friends of ours have told us that the trails here are good for fat bikes but possibly not for mountain bikes? We will have to brave the weather soon and go try again. I am very excited for the chance to ride year round and travel a little to the more mountainous regions of the US with these bikes in tow.

Another interest that has taken this household by storm has been Brian’s recent obsession with Bourbons. After more then ten years of sobriety he has decided to indulge a bit in some of America’s finest whiskeys. This new hobby has lead us on searches for hard to find and rare bottles, sometimes traveling within an hours drive from the cities. More often then not coming up with a few rather expensive vials of various intoxicants. I myself have found that my appetite for these such sprits is much greater then the actual need, knowing this I’ve decided to abstain from hard alcohol all together. Brian seems to enjoy this hobby with much more responsibility then in his younger years. I assume his

Things here are really starting to relax back into the norm, which isn’t necessarily good or bad. Maybe it’s for the best seeing that winter is in it’s way and it been decided that for the first time in years that we will not be snow birding it some where else this year. But instead staying close to home and trying to soak the itchy feet in lieu for scratching. This might work?

]]>https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/12/17/skis-and-mountain-bikes-and-bourbon-oh-my/feed/4thegargleblasterIMG_20131214_202325167Amy SkiingIMG_20131215_113003088Brian's MTBIMG_4239Brian's little houseWinding Downhttps://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/11/09/winding-down/
https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/11/09/winding-down/#commentsSat, 09 Nov 2013 23:12:18 +0000http://howilearnedtostopworrying.wordpress.com/?p=796It’s been almost 2 months now since Brian and I arrived home from Tajikistan, and since we have returned every old and some new friends always ask us the same question. “How we are handling being back to the normalcy of the day to day life here in Minnesota.” It’s a simple question with an easy answer.

There has been quite an adjustment period for the both of us. Brian has definitely jumped back into the normal daily functions of stable at home life. He’s doing much better then I, mainly because he came back to a job that he went to almost right away. On the side I came home to one of the worst times of the year for an Crane/Equipment Operator. So I expect it will take some time for my full acclimatization to happen. Hopefully that will happen sooner rather then to much later.

As for the continuation of our cycling practice, I still set astride my bicycle out 5-6 times per week, nothing close to the kilometers we were covering then, but still spinning the legs. Until recently we chose to do the one car family thing, since I really didn’t need the car, deciding instead to accomplish all the chores on my touring bike. I’m happy for it, keeps me cycling and still have a bit of a purpose behind it. Now unfortunately or maybe not so much so we purchased a new Subaru Forester for Brian, so that he could haul his tool to work and have a bit more room then my little compact machine. I’ve found a job for a short while back in the equipment operations realm and it facilitated the need for two vehicles.

We also came back at the beginning of the Cyclocross season. Pressure has piled on to Brian from all of his race friends to start back to serious racing right away. The only problem is he didn’t feel competitive this year. Yes, he probably has the most time and miles in the saddle then almost anyone who isn’t a pro bike racer as do I. Though neither of us are in race shape, we definitely are turtles compared to these guys who have been training in multiple bicycle disciplines throughout the last year. There are still plans in the works to race next year, but as for now I think the both of us are going to be mostly gym ward bound and if we get a fair amount of snow we’ll also be cross county skiing at the local golf course / park here called Theo Wirth. It’s about 5 minutes from the house, so it’s super convenient for the impending snow fall. Lot of lifting weights, a little winter biking, and weekends skiing is what we will be doing with our bodies to keep in shape until the spring thaw.

Things went a little crazy at the old homestead while we were gone. At some point during the spring Minneapolis got all their rain all at once. Upon returning home we found that the 3 season back porch had moved, not something normal for a house to do. Upon further inspection, it was discovered that there never was a foundation built to support this part of the structure. Immediately we began preparations to temporally fix this problem and this little renovation kicked of a string of home improvements which is still happening today. Mostly accomplished by myself, it is a good thing is have a background in construction. Brian and I together dug out for footings and stabilized the back porch ourselves. But we had to hire someone to replace our HVAC system, it was on the increasingly inefficient, insufficient and gave us a scare on night when it refused to work. Since then I’ve repainted the living room yellow to help deal with the doom and gloom of our long winters here in Minnesota. We hadn’t planed on being back until after March which in Minnesota is still the season for snow but it is also when things tend get a bit warmer. There really isn’t such a thing as Spring in these parts. I’ve installed shelving for storing our shoes, an ever increasing collection of footwear with specific purposes. There has been an attempt made to repair the outside stucco and to filling the gaps in our back stairs with mortar both of which are only temporarily solutions meant to work until spring when the real demolition can begin. There are loads of other little projects going on as well like replacing the light fixtures for a more homey feel and fixing the stove (our roommate did that one) . After being away for 7 months I suppose this is a bit of a nesting response. We’ll always continue to travel but I think we’ll be in Minneapolis for a long time.

Every weekend and many of the evenings, even on the school nights has been filled with all sorts of activities. Between game nights, club meetings, Facebook events, hanging out with friends, movies and going to the theater almost all of our free time is filled with things to do. Neither of us are lonely that’s for sure. I forgot that we used to do so much. Keeping busy is key, for me at least. Otherwise I might not ever fully adjust back into normal society.

It was surprising how well things came together after it was decided that we were going home. I’ve always been told that you need to buy plane tickets well in advance of your departure, that way you don’t pay a fortune for those last minute bookings, but Brian found tickets going westward for well under what I expected. All of our last minute chores went just as easily as well. We were able to find the plastic needed to wrap our bikes for the long haul in the planes hull while out looking for a hotel one night. The hotel, a fancier one then we were used to but not to upscale it was still Dushanbe, was booked for well under the asking price. Heck, we were going home now we could afford to splurge a little. Even the boxes we needed to use for our luggage (while it took some searching) we ended up walking away with some Russian Baby Stroller boxes being thrown out. Those we ended up scoreing those for free. There was also the short visit made to the Kazakhstan Consulate because we needed to see about transit visas. Though while talking to the Console, she said it wasn’t a necessary formality since our layover was less then 24 hours, no visa was needed. Truthfully it was crazy how smoothly everything went. Nothing ever goes this easy in places like this. Even I began to believe that maybe this was the right decision for us to return home. All the signs seemed to point in that direction.

Fancy Hotel?

Arriving at the International Airport three hours early with your bicycle is recommended. After going through security, possessing the tickets, wrapping the bikes, taping up the boxes, going through customs, and personally escorting the bike to the baggage area. (They were to big and the handlers refused to do it themselves) There was only enough time to rush into the bathroom before we started boarding the one of four planes that would slowly jet us home during one of the longest in transit moments of my life. It would be 56 hours of various transportation and sleeping arrangements before I would finally be through my front door.

Russian Stroller Box

Everything Fits Perfect

Actually the worst part was the 16 hour layover in Almaty, Kazakhstan’s capitol. Since being denied transit visas in Dushanbe we were never actually able to see the famous capitol. Instead we managed to catch some fitful sleep on the waiting benches in what I can only describe as the most expensive bus shelter/prison imaginable. I say this because they know they have you trapped in a place like this for an undetermined amount of time. Up to three days if you didn’t do your bookings correctly. This exact problem happened to a Belgian fellow on our flight. Who didn’t realize the he had to obtain a visa for flight transfers within the country even if he planned never to step foot outside the airport. We were lucky in this regard our flight was to London and not inside Kazakhstan. The other tricky part was as a transfer you must not pass through the passport check, there is this small door on the right hand side of all the Passport checker booths. The sign is there and it does say “Transit” but it is posted at such an angle that if you don’t look directly at it then you won’t see it. I’ve read varying reports about the hassles of transiting this particular airport. Most of which involve a bribe of some sort, refusal sometimes can mean that three day waiting period in the airport. Trust me you don’t want that. We didn’t know about the transit door before hand, all we knew was that there was no way we should go through that checkpoint. Eventually we found a police officer and a few other Transit stragglers, all of which were escorted to the holding cell they called “The Departure Gates.” There is a lot of traffic flowing through this airport, at the very least one flight to Moscow every hour which brought with it throngs of Russians on their way back home from holiday. So if you found a seat you took it and as soon as three were available, you would lay down and sleep if you can. Coming by sleep and coming by food, neither of which were easy in this way station. There is a little sandwich shop that sells over priced food and alcohol, a Hot Dog stand that might sell Hot Dogs on occasion (you just must find the right time), a Caviar shop, and the Duty Free. All in one giant room with large florescent lights and an Aluminum roof. Needles to say not the best place for a layover.

Plastic and Tape Shop

After that long and uncomfortable situation the rest of the trip home seemed uneventful. Fish and Chips and a small Scotch tasting at Heathrow in England. Chicago there was just enough time for us to go through the automated customs and immigration (brilliant by the way) before boarding for home sweet home Minneapolis.

We arrived at just around 11:30 pm to find Brian’s box was missing. Which normally wouldn’t have been much of a problem only that a friend was meeting us at the airport to cycle with us back home and Brian’s petals were in his missing box. No biking for Brian! It was going to be public transportation. No big deal again, we’ve done this a few times in the past and it’s just over 1 hour 20 minutes from the Minneapolis airport to our front door. As luck would have it another friend was at the airport that night as well. Working his late night job we coaxed him into taking some of our luggage and Brian’s bicycle in his car so that we could travel a bit more light. Bonuses to living in smaller cities are chance encounters like these.

One last Good Meal

Off to the Metro Station the three of us went, a little saddened that we wouldn’t be able to work of some of that jet lag with a spin of the legs but soon to be home none the less. That’s when it was discovered that one of my tires was flat, a puncture somewhere between Dushanbe and Minneapolis. Not entirely sure where this one came about and my fix-it-kit was in our friends car with the luggage he took.

So many things got thrown away!

Waiting at the metro station for just about an hour before the train came was a little extra annoying, after midnight trains only stop once an hour and stop altogether around the hours 2-4am. Something I learned only after this trip. Simply because it seems that most of the buses also stop running around these very same hours and we still had one more to catch. Which after dropping our friend off at her station (the one that came to petal us home) that last ride never did happen. Instead we walked, the two of us with my flat tire bike from Downtown Minneapolis where the Metro has it’s last stop to about 4 miles/6.4 km (I’m mostly back to the imperial system now) before we found a taxi driver willing to pick us up and take us the rest of the way home which amounted to a $10 USD taxi ride, it’s $5 just to sit in the cab. So not that far.

Where we threw in the towel

A little worse for wear but finally home.

Last of the Pamirs, for us.

It’s kind of funny to look back on these last moments of the trip and realize the transportation out of Central Asia was actually much easier then the transportation here in the US. Never when we needed a ride was it difficult to come by outside of home, but once we needed to get moving in Minneapolis it almost seemed impossible. I know it mostly had to do with the time of day but still makes me think a little.

One last ride around Dushanbe

]]>https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/10/03/leaving-it-all-behind-and-getting-home/feed/7thegargleblasterBikes loaded to leave with boxesFancy Hotel?Russian Stroller BoxEverything Fits PerfectPlastic and Tape ShopOne last Good MealSo many things got thrown away! Where we threw in the towelLast of the Pamirs, for us.One last ride around DushanbeTajikistan Drivers, or The Straw that Broke the Camels Backhttps://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/09/06/tajikistan-drivers-or-the-straw-that-broke-the-camels-back/
https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/09/06/tajikistan-drivers-or-the-straw-that-broke-the-camels-back/#commentsFri, 06 Sep 2013 12:48:57 +0000http://howilearnedtostopworrying.wordpress.com/?p=751It took a minimum of six different check points just to finally exit Uzbekistan at the southern border post closest to the city of Denau. This sort of time consuming procedure defiantly summed up our travel experience inside the country as unnecessarily difficult. While attempting to get processed out, my name flagged some sort of response from their computer system and for a few minutes I was worried that they might not grant me the exit stamp I so desperately wanted. Thankfully after some strange questioning about the amount of times I have visited Uzbekistan, (which has been only once) the customs official ignored the flashing red words attached to my name and allowed me to proceed through to the other three check points. I’m still unsure what caused my name to generate such a fuss, but now I’m under the impression that I probably won’t be able to visit Uzbekistan in the future. Maybe it was that previous blog post “Doing Our Time In Uzbekistan” that possibly upset someone inside the police state? Truthfully the way that tourists are monitored inwardly and publically, it wouldn’t surprise me that I might be flagged as a possible trouble maker. What ever the case may be, I don’t think I will be asking for entry to Uzbekistan in the near future.

Camping at the border

Gaining entrance to Tajikistan was a completely opposite experience compared to our leaving Uzbekistan. We were welcomed into Tajikistan by friendly officials, happy to help us fill out our immigration forms and customs officers who fed us a home cooked meal instead of interrogation and bag searches. They even directed us to a spot to pitch our tent near the passport control office. I don’t believe we could have asked for a safer location to camp for the night. While not exactly private or very quite it was in fact a very secure spot to sleep.

Waking up the next morning Brian and I had the feeling of a whole new change in perspective. With the Pamir Mountains just ahead of us and a “Warm Showers” host for us in the capital city of Dushanbe, we felt as though things were finally coming together for us in Central Asia.

Dushanbe.

This feeling of well being only intensified during our time in Tajikistan’s biggest city, Dushanbe. During our first 24 hours in country we accomplished all of our pressing tasks which included finding a DHL office, obtaining our official Pamir Permits, and gathering much needed supplies for the long desolate ride that was directly in front of us. All of our normal city chores like laundry (machine washing), bicycle maintenance, obtaining bank notes were all simple as well. Anyone who has spent even a slightly less than significant time in Central Asia knows that these are no simple feats and to achieve. To accomplish them inside that sort of time frame, seemed no less then amazing to the both of us. Even our Warm Showers host’s beautiful home inside the city seemed like a little oasis away from any troubles we might encounter. There was even a bit of free time allowed for us in Dushanbe, upon which we quickly filled our open moments with our new discovery of the most fantastic restaurant in town. A little Korean place off of Rudaki Ave, which we passed multiple times a day. Central Asian cuisine not being either one of our favorites, this restaurant was a refuge for our taste buds and we took advantage of this gourmet opportunity as often as was allowed. Knowing that we would be carrying and preparing all of our own provisions for the next 10 days while we made way up into the Pamirs.

Our GBAO permits for the Pamirs.

Since record time was made preparing for the road ahead, we only spent three days in Dushanbe before we felt confident enough with ourselves and the rations in our panniers to forge ahead up to the highest climbs we would encounter on the trip thus far. Finally both of us excited for the prospect of cooler weather and dramatic scenery in the mountains. Realizing that the two of us are actually much happier cycling when have something fantastic to focus the eyes on. Never minding the extra difficulty of climbing or the more technical riding as long as there are beautiful surroundings.

Leaving Dushanbe.

The first day out of Dushanbe we covered a comfortable 80 kms or so, taking our time, enjoying the cycling, and stopping frequently for water breaks and to prepare lunch. The road (M41) on the way to Horog was a bit more busier then we had been led to believe from previous research but as we pressed on, passing through suburbs and outlying towns traffic seemed to decrease with the more distance we put between us and the capitol.

Funny kid

Leaving Dushanbe

That first evening we met up with two other British cyclists doing the same thing we were, heading up to the mountains. Deciding to combine forces for the night, a camp site was found right next to a fresh mountain spring that lied just outside a little village at about 1700 meters. Where we were allowed small amount of privacy to set up our tents, cook a meal, and do a little washing up before cuddling up in our sleeping bags for a good nights sleep in the cool mountain air.

A bit cool at 1700 meters.

Waking up the next morning to a chill in the air and wearing long-sleeved shirts was a pleasant change to the dry oppressively hot deserts climates we had been accustomed to. Brian even made oatmeal for breakfast, which even one day earlier would have seemed strangely out of touch with the season. I’m not sure the other cyclists felt the same way about of recent swing in temperature as we did. Shortly after breaking camp they decided to head on out in front of us being a faster then and a bit more pressed for time on their Tajik visas then Brian and I were. They thought it best to get moving at a more quickened pace then what we would be keeping. It was more then fine with me to separate, going into the Pamirs I was looking forward to the solitude.

Heading up.

Isolation from society was still going to take a few more days from this point, we hadn’t even gotten to the point where the tarmac ends. The latter point came after second breakfast about 30 more kms down the road.

Unfortunately when the pavement ended the traffic didn’t. There were still many villages on the road ahead and sometimes even bits of paved road for small stretches along the way. This mostly would happen before and into the villages themselves. We knew that the 400+ kms or so from this point to Horog would be the most difficult portion of the trip into the high mountains. There was no illusions that this was going to be easy and it was made readily apparent quickly after the road turned to a rocky dirt track.

Heading up.

It was gong to be slow but we soon found our mountain legs and got back into the rhythm of climbing. This strangely Zen place in your mind and body where you go beyond the pain and focus only on the tranquility of moving. I know it sounds weird but when you find this place during cycle touring everything gets easier and much more peaceful.

We were just getting into this phase in our riding when the worse possible thing that can happen during bike tourist happened right next to Brian while chugging along up hill. While coming upon a blind corner, Brian harrowingly escaped a head on collision between two vehicles speeding down the middle of the mountain road. Both cars swerved in his direction to avoid hitting each other and almost ended Brian instead.

Scenery is improving.

Both of us continued to ride on up the mountain, I was unaware on how much this incident shook up Brian. At the time he didn’t let on that it affected him until we were much further on don’t the road.

After a several hour long discussion/ argument/ realization about the future, continuation of the trip, and more importantly safety, all of which coalesced under a bridge, the only scrap of shade to be found in miles, it was decided to turn back and end our tour.

The decision wasn’t made easily or lightly and at the time we both had very a different prospective on how to proceed forward. But once it was determined we would in fact be returning home every logistical detail fell right into place almost immediately, like it was meant to be.

I’m confident that we made the right decision to turn back at that moment.

Under the bridge where the fateful decision was reached.

Safety has always been the biggest concern for us while on tour. After the close call Brian experienced, the realization that many people in countries such as these don’t take into consideration life and the safety of themselves or others. It’s not something we didn’t know before starting this trip, it just became much more apparent after the collision Brian was nearly a part of.

Our lives are precious to us, our friends, and to our family. It will take some time for Brian to get over the shock of his near death experience. This set back won’t stop us from continuing to cycle both at home and abroad in the future. And we know that risks are real for collisions with cars and bicycles where ever you go in the world.

Korean restaurant, Dushanbe.

Time heals all wounds.

]]>https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/09/06/tajikistan-drivers-or-the-straw-that-broke-the-camels-back/feed/6thegargleblasterCamping at the borderDushanbe.Our GBAO permits for the Pamirs. Leaving Dushanbe.Funny kidLeaving DushanbeA bit cool at 1700 meters.Heading up.Heading up.Scenery is improving.Under the bridge where the fateful decision was reached.Korean restaurant, Dushanbe.Doing Our Time in Uzbekistanhttps://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/08/24/doing-our-time-in-uzbekistan/
https://howilearnedtostopworrying.com/2013/08/24/doing-our-time-in-uzbekistan/#commentsSat, 24 Aug 2013 06:59:22 +0000http://howilearnedtostopworrying.wordpress.com/?p=720I’m having a hard time trying to say anything nice about Uzbekistan and I’m not feeling the need to write out this experience in detail for future reference. So I thought it best to just list some observations and some things we have experienced along the way thus far.

Uzbekistan must be the turquoise tile capital of the world.

It’s August and super hot outside, hovering around 100F or 37C

Cycling in the desert like atmosphere is extremely unpleasant.

The food is much better here then in previous Central Asian Countries we have visited.

People whistle at you to get your attention. You begin to feel that people are calling you like they would call a dog.

The bureaucracy borders on the insane.

Almost all the police are corrupt and not to be trusted.

There aren’t many roads and they are in horrible condition.

Watermelon sellers are everywhere and everyone buys watermelon.

Alcohol is prevalent.

Sending a package out of Tashkent requires an act of God.

Buy your train tickets in advance.

Vodka fixes traffic tickets.

Trains can and will leave before the scheduled time.

Samarkand is a must see.

Roadside eateries are everywhere and cheap.

Always check your change.

Change your money on the Black market, normally in front of the actual market.

Never eat at a restaurant with out a menu with prices and be sure to check the bill for “accidental errors.”

There are no ATMs outside of Tashkent, I’m still not convinced there are any in Tashkent.

Banks will not give you money on Saturday and are closed on Sunday

Hotels rarely take credit cards even if they tell you they do, they will not.

If I ever make it back to this part of the world I will go to see Khiva.

Negotiate for everything everywhere.

Learn a bit of Russian but when dealing with authorities pretend to know nothing.

People will purposely try to cheat you. Watch and be aware.

Not all hotels accept non residents.

B&B’s are hostels and are normally the cheapest places in town, breakfast included.

Coke is expensive.

The old city areas are normally quite beautiful.

Ask for prices first.

I haven’t seen one live camel but many golden camel statues.

Taking the Metro in Tashkent is cheap and easy.

Standing in a queue is almost equivalent to a wrestling match except the little old ladies almost always win.

We drink more then 6 liters of water per person per day while cycling.

Gas stations are all over but almost all are closed.

Most of our cycling is done on the main road.

Use the crosswalks, they work.

Uzbekistan handicrafts are amazingly detailed.

There are a lot of tourists even in the hot/low season.

The highest currency note is worth less then .50 cents US

Almost any car is a Taxi.

You can find Medicinal Alcohol for camp stoves (Trangia) in the Pharmacies.

Carrying your bags in the Tashkent metro be prepared to stop for an ID check and bag search.

Dachas in the mountains outside of Tashkent in the Chorbog area cost over $100 USD per night the one hotel is $75 USD (August 2013)

There is good Indian Food!

Bukhara has a beautiful old city, small and compact.

Authorities always what to hear how great Uzbekistan is.

Trying to remain positive about Uzbekistan can be hard, I feel like I’m waiting out the last few remaining days of a prison sentence. Where the promise of better times are just ahead. Our visas for onward travel into Tajikistan were dated for 2 weeks after our entrance into Uzbekistan. Killing time has been priority one lately, which isn’t good for either one of us. We both need a focus to keep happy and motivated. There are just a few more days left until we can leave this country and hopefully put all the bad memories behind us. Here’s some photos:

What changing money is like.

Making silk carpet.

Bukhara.

Bukhara.

Bukhara.

Bukhara.

Bukhara.

Bukhara.

Bukhara.

Making shashlik

Watermelon Sellers.

Samarkand.

Samarkand.

Samarkand.

Samarkand.

Samarkand.

Samarkand.

Samarkand.

Amy. Samarkand.

Our pal Alex. Samarkand.

Samarkand.

Samarkand.

Samarkand.

This rad lady is riding her motorcycle home from England to Mongolia. Dressed like a zebra.